


I Believe You Owe Me a Dance

by thatawkwardfriend



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Heartbreak, Lonely Sherlock, M/M, Sherlock Dances, john and mary's waltz, john leaving mary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-08-09 19:14:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7813852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatawkwardfriend/pseuds/thatawkwardfriend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock dances by himself to the waltz he composed for John and Mary imagining John was there with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Believe You Owe Me a Dance

**Author's Note:**

> This is a ficlet I posted on tumblr :)

John and Mary’s wedding waltz sang its bittersweet tune into the living room of 221B. Each note Sherlock Holmes had composed out of longing and despair circled him and enclosed tightly around his heart. He side-stepped into the center of the room gracefully, delicately, as if one misplaced move would shatter his entire being. His arms were outstretched, forming a half circle in front of him as if he were holding another as he danced mindfully around the room.

His eyes, however, remained closed. So he could imagine that it was John Watson he held in his arms while he danced. That it was John Watson whose feet moved in time with his. That it was John Watson who hands were gently resting in his hand and on the small of his back. 

After all, it was for John Watson that he composed the theme of his own heartbreak. It was for John Watson that he played the notes of tragedy himself while he watched him share his first dance with another. It was for John Watson that he was now dancing alone behind the closed doors of Baker Street, in the dim lighting of what was once their shared living room. 

Forwards, sideways, backwards, and sideways again. He blocked out every sound that interrupted his imagined dance to the song that broke him. The sound of the door to Baker Street opening, the all-too familiar footsteps thumping up the stairs, and even the door to the flat easing open. It was only when a pair of firm, warm hands enclosed in his own, and a body began moving in time with his, that he opened his eyes. 

“John,” he breathed. His only reply was the corner of John’s lip lifting in a soft smile, the way it always did just for him. 

“But… I thought-”

“Hush. None of that now,” John whispered as he took the lead, gently pulling Sherlock’s body in step with his. Their movements were so fluid, so natural, as though they were always meant to move together like this. One unit. 

“But Mary,” Sherlock persisted, unable to hide the crack in his voice. 

“Not her, Sherlock. You. It was always you.” 

And that was all he needed to hear. For this moment at least. He swallowed down the lump in his throat and blinked away the tears gathering in his eyes. This was not the time for that. John was finally home. With him. At last. 

John took his chin and gently guided his face towards his own. “Now, I believe you owe me a dance, Sherlock Holmes,” he said quietly, gazing warmly up at him.

This time, Sherlock didn’t stop the flow of tears that escape his eyes. But it was alright. Because it was for John Watson that the song that broke his heart was now the song that mended it back together. It was for John Watson that he allowed his tears of heartache to run freely down his face. It was for John Watson that he could now dance, and live, no longer as a misplaced half, but as a complete whole. 

“I believe I do.”


End file.
